


Fictober 2018

by Eravalefantasy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Final Fantasy XV, Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Witcher 3: The Wild Hunt
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-07-23 09:11:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 18,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16156028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eravalefantasy/pseuds/Eravalefantasy
Summary: Chapter titles list the fandom and pairing if any.





	1. One Little Thing-Geralt of Rivia x Yennefer of Vengerberg (Witcher 3)

Fictober 2018

 

Day 1: “Can you feel this?”

* * *

 

“Can you feel this?” Yennefer pushed three fingers against the mottled splotch on Geralt’s shoulder.

He winced, closed his eyes and tried to stifle a groan. “What do you think?”

“I think it was quite gallant of you to step in front of the fire elemental, but perhaps you could have trusted me.” She sighed, giving him a light pat before returning to the workbench. Vials and bottles clinked against one another from her vigorous search and several toppled against tabletop.

“Yen.” Geralt knew he’d be fine in a few hours.

“Not now, I’m looking for something.” The clattering noises continued, and the discordant sound did little but aggravate him as much as her brushoff. “Damn, I can’t find it.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I’m out of ranogrin. Would you?” 

_Typical Yen_ , he thought, shaking his head. “So, you’re out of whatever it is and want me to go digging through the forest for your plant stores?”

Her crossed arms and tapping foot answered the question. “Don’t be difficult. I need the needles to make the tincture for your skin. Magic may have healed you, but that bruise will worsen.”

“So? What’s one more bruise?”

 “I’m trying to help you; must you act like a petulant child?”

Nearly positive Yen wouldn’t change her mind through mere discussion, he tried a different approach. “You’re beautiful when you’re angry.”

She scoffed and tossed his tunic toward him. “That will not work, at least not until your errand for me is complete.” She turned away only to face him again, her forehead creased. “I am not angry.”

Geralt shrugged before slipping the tunic over his head. “Sounded angry to me.”

Yennefer’s eyes narrowed, but she said nothing, returning to her work bench while Geralt dressed. His keen ears picked up the sounds of scratching as Yennefer wrote on a small slip of parchment; Geralt ignored it, securing his harness and replacing both swords in their sheaths.

His injured shoulder felt a little stiff, but a quick trip to gather what Yennefer needed wouldn’t be much of a problem.

“Here.” The one thing Yen needed had grown, her familiar script nearly covered the slip of paper.

Geralt skimmed over the near dozen plants listed and rolled his eyes. “This is more than one thing, Yen.”

“So it is,” she said without inflection. Tapping her hand against his chest, Yennefer kissed him before turning away. “Everything on the list grows in the immediate vicinity, which means my little errand won’t take too long.”

“Yeah, right,” he muttered, heading toward the door. _See you around, Yen._ Nothing ever went as planned between them; it’d be a matter of time before trouble found Geralt. _Just like always._


	2. Day-2 Clouds-Final Fantasy XV

Fictober2018

 Day 2: “People like you have no imagination.”

 

“It’s a fish,” Prompto said staring up at the sky. The bright moon and starry skies illuminated the clouds.

“It’s a cloud, genius.” Gladio laughed, and closed his eyes again. “You two should get some sleep.”   

Prompto sat with Noctis at the far end of the haven. “You know what your problem is Gladio?”

“Would it matter if I said I didn’t care?”

Waving his words away Prompto continued. “Dude-people like you have no imagination.”

Noctis chimed in. “He’s got a point Gladio, you don’t.”

“Sure I do,” Gladio stood up and adjusted the camp chair before sitting in front of the fire. “I don’t waste it on clouds.”

Not buying Gladio’s answer, Noctis shifted to face him. “Prove it.”

Leaning back in his chair, Gladio pointed up at the night sky. “One o’clock, that’s Chelsea. Met her at the rest stop at Cauthess.”

Noctis coughed hiding his laugh. “How about over there?” He’d pointed toward the south.

“Oh yeah, forgot about her.” He stretched before standing up. “That was Cassi, she was from Lestallum, or wait,” he stopped and tossed a wink at Noctis, “maybe she was at the Quay-no wait, that was Aleah.”

“Dude, you have no shame,” Prompto said with a shake of his head.

 Gladio grinned and stretched again with a yawn. “Damn straight. Now, get some sleep.”


	3. Day 3: And Your Broken Nose, Too - Dragon Age: Inquisition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a fight with the Inquisitor, Garrett Hawke nurses a broken nose and has to face a rather perturbed Varric.

Typical Varric. Half-truths and veiled explanations leading to the same outcome . . . a shitload of trouble. Garrett Hawke fell into a chair at the Herald’s Rest- broken nose and all.

“I warned you the Inquisitor had a short fuse,” Varric offered, “but you couldn’t back down, could you?”

“You lied to me, Varric.” Hawke complained. “You said no such thing.”

Valerie Trevelyan took exception to Hawke’s behavior on the battlements. When he’d tried to kiss her, she’d broken his nose for his offense.

“Maybe I didn’t use those exact words,” Varric looked at the blood-covered rag and waved for another. “Common sense my friend, when I introduced the Inquisitor, why’d you think you could treat her like a bar maid? I thought you understood why you were here?”

“That’s not what happened.” Hawke said, looking sideways at Varric. “Fine, I handled that poorly.”

Laughing, Varric directed Hawke to the upper floor. “That’s an understatement. Come on, need to keep you out of sight for now.” Taking the stairs with care, Varric caught the thumbs up from Bull. He worried what the Iron Bull might do if Hawke continued to talk about the Inquisitor within earshot.

Halfway up the stairs, Hawke stopped. “I should apologize, but I gotta tell you, Varric. She’s got a lot of fire and I kind of like that.” Hawke wove through the tables to a secluded corner, sitting down once more. 

“Leave the nice Inquisitor alone, Hawke.” Varric warned, “the Seeker’s pissed and I won’t even get started on Cullen. Stay out of sight for a while, all right?”

Hawke shrugged. “I can’t promise anything.”

For the first time in years, Varric’s deep frown and pointed glare surprised Hawke. “Try. Maybe I wasn’t clear, maybe you misunderstood. Let me make it clear. The shit’s deep enough here without you adding to it. They don’t know you like I do. Look, I’ll smooth things over, talk to people and clean this mess up, but you need to stay here or go rest. Stay out of her way.”

“Don’t pull that, not with me. This is not us getting into trouble and laughing about it.”

Despite Varric’s serious tone, Hawke tried to dismiss his friend’s concern. “I hear you-enough already-trust me. Message received.”

“How can I trust you?” Varric shook his head. “I did what you asked, I made sure you had time to figure things out, and then you do this? Come on, you’re better than this.”

“What happened to you? Hanging out with this  _Inquisition_? Responsibility? I don’t like it.”

Varric sighed. “Yeah? Well considering the circumstances, I’m surprised they haven’t locked us both up. Look, tell them what you remember about the Vimmark Mountains and then I’ll get you out of here.”  


	4. Day 4: If You'd Just Listen: Cullen Rutherford x Valerie Trevelyan (Dragon Age: Inquisition)

Day 4: “Will that be all?”

 

-l-l-l

“I don’t think it’s unreasonable,” Valerie called after Cullen. She’d only been a few steps behind, but Cullen had reached the landing and headed for the door. “Would you please just hear me out?”

“No. Not this time.” He stepped outside and headed for old stump. Chopping wood always helped him think, and this time he’d need an unsinkable argument. _We are not going to Minrathous. This is not up for discussion._

Walking away from Val was rude and the pangs of guilt weighed on him, but she had been a target-a focus for zealots. Dorian would no doubt guarantee her safety, but the extent of that protection concerned him.

“No?” She hurried after him, leaves crunching under her heavy steps. “You won’t even listen? At least let me try to convince you.”

Cullen owed her the courtesy of listening, he’d likely not change his mind, but hearing Val’s plan was the right thing to do. “All right, I’ll listen with an open mind, and then you will allow me the same.”

Her lips pressed together and he knew the expression well-she bit back an angry retort, but did not wish to argue. It took a moment for Valerie before she spoke again. “Just let me explain?”

A sincere apology delivered, Cullen asked Valerie to continue. He’d grown used to making every decision and planning every step when they’d arrived several years ago; Valerie’s fire and independence had returned only recently and Cullen was still adjusting.

“I want to go to Minrathous, and before you say no, I want to talk with Dorian and not through that. . . that. . .crystal thing. It’s easier for us to travel than him, and I’ve already reached out to Bull and he’ll accompany us or send a few of the Chargers if you’d prefer. They’ll take as us far as Asariel, and then we’ll continue from there. All we have to do is send a messenger from the city and Dorian will send a small escort.” She finished; expectant eyes searched his face for his agreement, but Cullen shook his head.

“Oh, will that be all? How can you be sure? There are far too many variables. Minrathous has changed.”   Cullen expected defiance, but wasn’t prepared for the disappointment he read on her face.

“You think I’m too weak.” She huffed and paced in tight line. “I lived there, Cullen. For years I survived without help.”

“Ten years ago.”

She stopped. For a moment Valerie opened her mouth to answer and then her brows knit together. “Ten?” Her eyes unfocused and stared unblinking past him. “Was it?” Her arm wrapped around her waist. He knew what would happen next. Valerie would retreat inside her head and knowing he contributed to it this time forced his hand.  Swift steps brought him to stand in front of her, and with practiced gentle moves he raised her chin and met her cold stare.

“Val? Talk with me, please. We’ll find another way- I’ll talk to Dorian first and then we’ll decide-all right?”

The light nod from her filled him with relief, but she still hadn’t recovered. “Ten years. What happened?”  

A light laugh caught her attention and he smiled before answering. “You played hero for a time and then things got a bit. . .well, odd.”

“Played hero for a time?” She laughed despite the distress on her face. “To say the least.”


	5. Day 5: A Wise Decision: Geralt of Rivia and Yennefer of Vengerberg (Witcher 3-post game)

 

Day 5 “Take what you need.”

 

 

Summer in Toussaint passed without notice, and with a soft sigh the autumnal breezes cooled enough to be felt after sunset, but for Geralt and Yennefer the day refused to end; warm tones of burnt orange and deep gold flowed through a crisp blue sky, lulling them both into a contented silence.

Corvo Bianco’s steward and majordomo regretted interrupting, but a sudden arrival had turned his quiet afternoon into chaos. Barnabas-Basil Foulty adjusted his smoked-glass spectacles but stood unobtrusively apart from the two resting in the late afternoon breezes.

Geralt heard the short huffs and indecision as the man shuffled in place. “Is this going to upset me?” Geralt asked, keeping his tone light.

“That depends on the reason for the young lady’s visit, I suppose,” he said with a shrug. “However, the racket and upheaval warrant your attention - _Geralt_.”

Rising to his feet, Geralt motioned for Yennefer to wait, and he whispered. “I think I preferred it when he didn’t use my name.” A soft laugh answered him.

“Cirilla arrived without so much as a greeting? She’s hiding something.”

Yennefer’s intuition echoed Geralt’s thoughts. “I figured as much. Wait here, I’ll be back.”

She hummed in response and shook her wine glass. “If you’ve a mind for it, maybe the red this time?”

“Red. Got it.”

Geralt didn’t need his enhanced senses to know something was wrong, Ciri’s voice carried through the villa, raised in exasperation.

“How does he find anything!” Her frustration continued, leading Geralt through the villa until he reached his makeshift armory. Various completed sets of armor rested on wooden display poles. The walls displayed every piece of his collected swords daggers and heavy arms, but Ciri searched through the piled crates. “There must be some unknown reason for this disorganization, although I shudder to think what might happen if a real emergency arose.” Back to him, Ciri straightened and tapped her foot. “If I were a collection of volatile and deadly bombs, where would I hide?”

He swallowed his laugh. “I don’t know Ciri, maybe not inside where they could cause serious damage?”

She froze and turned around, wearing a nervous smile and giving him a halfhearted wave. “Um, right. Hi, by the way, don’t you look well?”

Geralt didn’t buy the act. “Nice try. Spill it.”

With a roll of her eyes, Ciri trudged from the armory. “Well, if I’m to be honest, I don’t know what it is entirely, and unlike you, I’m not able to craft everything at a moment’s notice.” Something in her posture deflated and with the simple movement, so did his usual resolve.

“All right, all right. I’ll help,” he said joining her. A gentle side hug and a smile meant to lighten her mood. “I’ll show you where I keep everything else. Take what you need, but I’m coming with you.”

“But-”

Yennefer stepped into the room interrupting their conversation. “As am I, if the situation is so uncertain, would it not be better for you to have our support?” She stared at Geralt’s face looking for an answer.

“Don’t ask me, Ciri has shared nothing other than my place is a mess and where my arsenal is hiding itself.”

The corner of Yennefer’s mouth rose into a smirk. “She’s right, you know, but now is not the time to speak of your housekeeping deficiencies.”

“Thanks, Yen.”

Ciri’s escaping laughter prompted a wink between Geralt and Yennefer. “Give me a minute. Everything is locked in one of the sheds, I’ll need the key and my swords.”

The problem was, he couldn’t remember where he’d stashed the key, and his search made an even larger mess as drawers were upturned and armoires looted without success. He finally called for Barnabas-Basil’s help, but by the time the majordomo returned, the sun had set; after a brief discussion, the trio decided to continue on and journey through the night.

As Geralt prepared packing Roach’s saddlebags to near bursting, Yennefer and Ciri’s impatience grew until Yennefer hurried him along.

“While we are still young, Geralt.”

Geralt knew better than to take the bait and coughed his laugh away before muttering. “Not touching that one.” Yennefer’s true age was known to a select few, but only a fool would bring up the fact. He climbed into the saddle with a glance behind him, Yennefer’s pursed lips and a raised brow proof she’d heard him.  

Yennefer gently pressed her heel against her mare’s side and started the trek along the foot path, as she passed Geralt and Roach he heard her voice respond to his comment.  “A wise decision.”


	6. Day 6: Final Fantasy XV - A Simple Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis and Prompto tell a small lie and try to sneak out.

Fictober18 Day 6

“I heard enough, this ends now.”

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV – part of a larger fic

All audiences

 

It all started with whispers in the back seat of the car. Ignis kept his usual focus as he drove Prince Noctis and his friend Prompto to the apartment, but their hushed voices tipped him to something strange. In most cases, Ignis often had to ask one or both to cease shouting while he tried to navigate the busy streets of Insomnia.

The secretive nature of their conversation continued when Ignis parked in the private garage, but what solidified the probability of something untoward and a precursor to a poor decision stemmed from Noctis’ forced nonchalance. “You know what Ignis? I think me and Prompto are going to get a pizza, so you don’t have to stay.”

“I see,” Ignis replied, giving no attention to the obvious lie. He waited until the two entered Noctis’ apartment and then excused himself with a promise to return early in the morning.

Prompto’s half-hidden lean of his head, seemed to urge Noctis to some action. “Oh, yeah. I don’t think I’m going to make breakfast at the Citadel, so don’t worry about it.”

Ignis hummed in response and left the two but grabbed his cell in hand and dialed before entering the garage. The person on the other end picked up on the second ring.

“’Sup, Iggy.” Gladiolus Amicitia lacked any decorum on the phone, and while Ignis had grown used to it, and the slight twinge of aggravation as a result of the strange car ride increased. 

Resisting the urge to sigh, Ignis shared what little he knew; once finished, he wondered if his assumption could be wrong. “Perhaps it is nothing-”

 Gladio interrupted. “Yeah, well. I’d bet those two aren’t planning on staying in. I’m on my way. If you park on the opposite side of the street, you’ll have a better view all three building exits.”

Gladio had pulled this duty before, there had been one other instance when Noctis tried to convince his friends he was in for the night and ended up wandering around the city without an escort. Both Ignis and Gladio had gotten an earful from Marshal Leonis and Gladio’s father about responsibility, and neither of them would take that chance again.

The plan seemed simple enough, Ignis would leave and make a point of driving away as if he planned to return to the Citadel, but instead of continuing south, he would double back and park as close to the blind corner as possible, where Gladio would meet him.

As the time passed, Ignis kept one eye on the apartment building while occasionally glancing in the car’s mirrors for any sign of the prince’s bodyguard and Shield. Ignis understood well enough, at seventeen, Noctis had expressed his displeasure over the need for the near constant presence of Gladio or Ignis throughout his day. His classes were the one reprieve.

 _There is little we can do, other than our best to remain at a distance_ , Ignis thought, but what Noctis failed to comprehend rested in the expectations of King Regis and his guard as they all took note of the triumphs and failures of Noctis’ guard. “Where in the bloody hell is he?” Ignis exhaled sharply and within seconds calmed once more. _It does little good to react without more information_.

The steady buzz of Ignis’ cell grabbed his attention; Gladio’s name appeared in white letters on the display. Before Ignis could speak, Gladio’s voice instructed him to leave his car. “Three cars back, I’m in the small red car.”

Curious, Ignis hurried to the position indicated, but as he reached the destination point, Ignis’ attention was drawn across the street. Two men left by the front entrance, both dressed in dark clothing, their faces hidden under ball caps, hands shoved into their coat pockets. _Noct, you lied to me_ , Ignis thought with a frown.

He remained hidden behind the red car’s front bumper, until the two turned away and walked toward the bus stop.

Gladio called to Ignis from inside the car. “Let’s go, Iggy, you drive.”

Without hesitating, Ignis opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat, securing his belt. “Should I ask how you acquired this car?”

“Borrowed it,” Gladio said with a shrug, “it cost me a favor, but the important thing is, neither one of those two know this car, and won’t give it a second look if we’re seen.”

Ignis couldn’t argue the point, Noctis would never believe either of them followed in such a small vehicle. “They turned toward the bus stop, do you know where that might take them?”

“Yeah,” Gladio replied. “Noct had mentioned some place called the Black Kat. I remember looking for it a few days ago. It’s one of those music clubs, but the catch is, no one under eighteen would be allowed in.”

Ignis frowned as he pulled the car out onto the street, following Noctis and Prompto at a distance. “If it were to be discovered that he gained entry to such a place and under false pretenses-”

“It’d be our asses,” Gladio interrupted, “get me to the club Iggy. I’ll take care of the rest.”

The two watched as Noctis and Prompto boarded the bus without a second glance of their surroundings. Gladio wasn’t wrong. If he kept this quiet , and the news reached the King, Ignis and Gladio would face an even greater scrutiny and possibly leave King Regis with a lingering doubt as to their effectiveness. “I fear we must share this information with Monica and even possibly the Marshal.

A long sigh from Gladio degenerated into a grumble. “Right. I’m not gonna argue, but let’s get Noct outta whatever crap he plans to do and then explain.”

It took Ignis a moment to consider Gladio’s suggestion. “Agreed. If you’re sure this music club is his destination, then what is the quickest route to intercept them?”

On the Crown City bus, Noctis and Prompto sat together, with Prompto on the aisle.  He chatted amicably about getting to the club in time, and the bands appearing that night, but Noctis’ heart wasn’t in it. He pulled the cap lower on his face and sunk in the seat while Prompto asked various questions. After Noctis ignore a handful of questions, Prompto shook his friend’s shoulder.

“Dude, what’s the problem?”

Noctis answered with a short shake of his head. “Nothing, this was a mistake.”

“Relax, my friend. This was your idea. We’ve got this,” Prompto offered. “I think this is our stop up ahead.” Standing up, he pulled the signal cord. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

The bus rolled to a stop , and the doors opened, Prompto leading the way. Once they descended the stairs, Noctis exhaled, but moved quickly against the building in front of them. “I don’t know,” he said pressing his back against the wall. “What if we get caught?”

“We won’t. We both look eighteen, this place isn’t going to care.”

Noctis wasn’t convinced but admitted the plan had been his. He’d grown tired of having to stay in every night, not able to do what he wanted and complained how his every step had to be planned. They’d heard about the club in school, and they’d figured blending in with the crowd would get them inside.

“Besides,” Prompto explained, “remember Astrid? Her brother is the bouncer, he’ll let you in.”

Walking the long block toward the Black Kat, Noctis started to relax. “Okay, you’re right. We’ve got this.”

“Now you’re talking.” Prompto slapped Noctis on the back. “Hey, if we get there and you don’t want to go through with it, we’ll bail —deal?”

“Deal.”

Outside the club, the line stretched halfway around the building, but moved quickly. Prompto stepped out into the street to see the front door and returned tapping his friend on the shoulder. “Dude, hey’re just letting people in, nothing else. We’re cool.”

The line inched closer and closer, and despite Prompto’s excitement, Noctis’ unease grew. Six people separated them from getting inside.  “Hey Prompto? I don’t want to do this.”

A flash of disappointment crossed Prompto’s face, but he didn’t argue. As they turned to leave the line, the bouncer waved them over.

"Year you were born?”

 The two stared at one another and then back at the bouncer. “Uh what?”

“Hey, the questions get harder from here on out, last time. What year were you born?”

Prompto answered. “Thirty three.”

The bouncer looked the two of them over and shook his head. “A little ambitious, don’t you think?”

Prompto quickly changed his answer. “Thirty four?”

“You askin’ me?” With a wave of his hand, the bouncer called someone over.

Noctis realized they might be in trouble and shoved Prompto away from the entrance. “We’re leaving.”

“Hold it,” the bouncer said, as his partner approached, he called over his shoulder. “You get all that?”

The larger of the two bouncers stepped out into the light, both Noctis and Prompto recognizing the familiar muscular form of Gladiolus Amicitia. “I heard enough, this ends now.”

“Shit,” Noctis muttered, he knew that if Gladio was here, so was Ignis and that meant Noctis would have to explain himself.

Gladio crossed his arms and settled on his feet, his frown deepening. “You messed up.”

“Tell me about it.”


	7. Day 7: Final Fantasy XV Amicitia siblings, Mention of OC - So. . .Yeah.

Day 7 “No worries, we still have time.”

Fanfiction

Final Fantasy XV

Iris Amicitia

Gladiolus Amicitia x OC

 

Twenty minutes had passed, and they still couldn’t find Gladio’s keys. Iris had given up; sitting in the windowsill, she watched as the perfect day began to slip away. The only reason Iris had agreed to the weekend camping trip was because Ava would meet them at Silent Creek Woods.

And then it struck her-an idea to salvage their weekend. She slipped her phone from her pocket and sent a message.

 

_Gladdy can’t find his keys. . .again. A little help?_

 

Even before she could return the phone to her pocket it buzzed, the small white envelope in the corner alerting her to a message. Swiping the display, the name at the top of the screen coaxed a smile, but it was the message that made her laugh.

 

_Check the fridge._

 

Iris wasn’t supposed to bug Gladio about Ava; the two seemed to be getting along better, but if their father found out, there’d be a whole mess of trouble for them both. Gladdy wasn’t supposed to be friendly with the Crownsguard. Iris didn’t know exactly what Ava did at the Citadel, but she’d heard enough of Gladio and their father’s arguments to know Clarus Amicitia didn’t approve.

Pushing up from the window seat, Iris nearly skipped toward the stairs. “Gladdy!”

“Not now, Iris. You could help, you know.”

She tried not to laugh as her brother continued to rant and Iris asked the prompted question. “Did you check the fridge?”

Something upstairs fell with a thud and silenced Gladio. She moved aside as he thundered down the stairs and through the breezeway connecting the living room to the kitchen. She crept closer to the door and sure enough the jingle of keys and a string of curses revealed the hint had paid off.

Iris hurried back to the window seat and pretended to be disinterested.

“Hey Squirt, how did you know?” He held up the keys and thanked her.

She shrugged, hiding a smile by staring out the window. “A little bird told me.”

A groan degenerated into a grumble, and Gladio grabbed his neck with his free hand. “Tell me you didn’t call Ava.”

Iris hummed in response and then faced him. “Not exactly.”

“Iris.” The admonishment was light, carried by embarrassment rather than anger. He sighed and looked at the keys in his hand. “Maybe we should just forget it.”

“No! You can’t, what if she’s there waiting for us?”

He tossed the keys up in the air only to snatch them before they fell. “It’s a little late, don’t you think?”

Shaking her head, Iris stalked across the floor and moved behind her brother, attempting to push him toward the door. “No. . .worries,” she said slowly from the effort, “we still have time.”

Another sigh and Gladio conceded. “All right. I guess we can go.” He stooped to grab the last two bags, only to stop and face his sister, his brows knit together. “So I guess this means you don’t mind hanging out with Ava?”

Iris clasped her hands behind her back and her whole body swayed. “Nope.”

Holding the door open for her, Gladio waited for Iris to step into the hall. “Good.”


	8. Day 8: Cullen Rutherford x Valerie Trevelyan (Dragon Age: Inquisition-Post Trespasser)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Limb loss

Day 8: “I know you do.”

Fan fiction  
Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition (post Trespasser)  
Cullen Rutherford x Valerie Trevelyan  
All Audiences  
TW: Limb loss

It was all too much for Valerie, she’d put on a brave front; no one saw her fear, her despair–no one except for Cullen. He’d wanted to take her from Orlais as soon as possible, but Cassandra insisted they rest as guests for a few days.

Dorian waited the longest, sitting with them both, offering options and possibilities. “You could travel with me, perhaps there are healers in Tevinter who might-”

“No,” Valerie replied. “I want to go home. Our home.”  

“I know you do,” Cullen said, “let me see Dorian off and then we’ll leave, all right?”

She nodded and focused her attention on Dorian. “I’m so sorry if I disappointed you.”

“You never have, and I believe you never will. Fancy a pick me up?” His veiled offer of magic met with a grateful smile.

“Put it on my bill.”

The laughter from Dorian was real as he worked his magic, promising to scour the Imperium from peak to mud hole until he found an answer. “When you tire of country living,” he said, leaning closer, “or if your husband drives you a bit mad-use the crystal. I am ever yours.” He gave her wink before leaving the bedside.

Cullen promised to return, leading Dorian from the guest wing. The gilded halls and bustling attendants ignored the two men as they walked. Several side glances from Dorian gave way to a quieted conversation.

“You cannot take her back to Skyhold.”

“No, we will not return,” Cullen explained. Lady Melisande offered several properties hoping Valerie would retire; the farm and orchard in Tantervale in the Marches would require far more work, but the full orchard with a small home in Wycome required little effort. Both were given to Valerie to do with as needed.

Descending the staircase, Dorian shook his head. “Something tells me you would prefer Tantervale; it’s exactly the place I could see you both enjoying a private existence.”

“Agreed.” Cullen stopped, his face falling to reveal the sadness he’d kept hidden. “Will she recover?”

“I don’t know,” Dorian closed his eyes. “Cullen, I wish I had an answer. I can’t be certain if whatever took her arm has stopped. You saw it, we all did. This is not normal; the anchor consumed her flesh.”

“I know.”

They stood in silence for a moment, neither moving. It fell to Dorian to address what had consumed Cullen’s thoughts for several days. “There is a far more serious issue. Valerie is broken, she’s said as much, insisting we should have allowed her to die. This will not be easy. She is terribly strong willed and that will help, but are  _you_  ready for this?”

Cullen’s brows knit together, and he stepped closer. “How can you ask that of me? Have you forgotten not three days prior when you questioned my devotion to her?  _Yes_. I am  _not_  giving up on her. She lost a part of her arm,” he gestured toward the palace entrance, “but she is still my Val, that will  _never_  change.”

 strong hand gripped Cullen’s shoulder. “Good. Remember this moment.” Dorian’s expression softened. “If you need to talk, you know how to reach me.”


	9. Day 9: Wrong Place, Right Time - Witcher 3

Loose ends. That’s all Geralt had left to do before he left for Toussaint. Most were simple enough; Ciri knew the way if she needed help and Geralt didn’t worry about Yen. That left only a handful of stops before he was expected.

Roach carried him through the Oxenfurt forest, the horse’s familiarity with the path led her; their destination lay hidden in the thickest part of the wood where the mountain sheltered part of the remaining Temerian army. Traveling at night was often easiest, despite the constant possibility of night creatures on the prowl, but after the past few months Geralt was more than prepared for whatever might challenge a witcher.

It would take months for the Nilfgaardians to leave these lands, but their departure and the transition wasn’t Geralt’s task, he left the peace treaty and the politics to others. Something drove Geralt to the old Temerian camp, perhaps because Roche and Ves hadn’t said a word after helping at Kaer Morhen. Roche had taken exception to Letho’s presence.

 _What’s a little regicide between friends_ , he thought, and laughed aloud.  Roche hadn’t been thrilled with Letho’s appearance, but Letho of Gulet proved he repaid his debts and fault alongside them against the Hunt. “Don’t think I’ll be seeing him anytime soon,” Geralt said.

A light breeze carried the acrid odor of burning fires and roasting meat. “Subtle. Nothing like leading others right to you.” He shook his head and considered if any bandit or fool ventured too close, it would be a deadly mistake. 

Climbing out of the saddle, Geralt led Roach toward the warm glow near the cave, but she pulled away refusing to go any further. “Yeah, I get it, go on I’ll find you.” Roach had no love for the Blue Stripes; she’d take her chances in the dark wood over getting too close to Vernon Roche and Ves.

Roche was likely still sore over Letho, but Geralt couldn’t say how long he’d be away and with Lambert leaving, it left Eskel as the closest witcher  should help be needed.  _Don’t need Roche issuing arrest warrants because he can’t find a witcher to clean up a mess._

The guard shouted back a warning. “It’s the Witcher!”

“Thanks,” Geralt said without inflection as he entered the cave expecting the worst. “That should give Roche enough time to practice a scowl and have a glare ready for me.”

A fair number still gathered, most probably still searching for the former glory that was the Temerian army. Most paid little attention or pretended not to notice him, but it was well known Geralt had sided with Temeria and helped Vernon Roche. None of them understood Djikstra would have been even more exacting and demonstrative, an ever present menace over the detached indifference of Emhyr. It wasn’t profitable to continue the war, and Emhyr, no matter what Geralt thought of him, was no fool.

A lone fire burned near the back of the cave, and it warmed only two; Ves glared enough for both. She’d never trusted Geralt, even when he protected her. Steeled blue eyes narrowed at his approach, but it was Roche who spoke.

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

“What? No kiss? I’m hurt,” Geralt quipped.  He was baiting them, not itching to fight, but any sarcastic comment would incite either.

Ves stepped forward her sword half drawn when Roche stopped her.  “Go check on the guards.” She hadn’t responded to the order, but her icy glare remained fixed on Geralt until she passed him.

“Impressive, Ves didn’t argue-for once.”

“The only reason I haven’t struck you down is because I owe you my life. You could have backed that pig or even walked away, but I am grateful our friendship meant more than money.”

“Still not my type Roche. Let me make this quick. If you need help, look to Eskel. I’ll be away for some time.”

For a moment, Roche seemed to consider Geralt’s words and opened his mouth to speak, but changed his mind. “All right.  Is there anything else?”

“No. That’s it.”

“I see.” Roche’s brows knit together.  “I never thanked you for all you did for Temeria.”

Geralt shrugged. “Life of a witcher, Roche. Wrong place at the right time.” He gave a slight nod and left without another word. Geralt’s destination-Velen and then on to Toussaint.  


	10. Day 10: Heavy Hangs The Head: Final Fantasy XV -Prince Regis (Dadbros)

Regis shivered; it was a strange reaction to the warm breezes on the boat. Cor and Clarus mock battled one another each taunting the other; the smile on Regis’ face wasn’t real, despite watching Cor avoid falling overboard for the third time. Cid’s constant complaints of horseplay and foolishness continued to go unheeded, and Regis had no intention to interrupt his friends.

 _It’s too much_ , he thought, _I am asking far too much of them-and for what?_ For a moment he considered Weskham. _I should have insisted he remained behind, what if this proves too difficult? Losing any one of them would be more than I could bear._

A light tap on Regis’ shoulder revealed Weskham Armaugh standing behind him, a jacket in his hands held up for Regis to wear. “You’re shivering,” Wes said with a hint of concern. “Here, take this and consider sitting next to Cid until you’ve warmed a bit.”

Regis thanked him but declined. “I’m not cold.”  


“I see,” Weskham raised a single brow. “There is no cause for concern, they are merely expending a bit of energy,” he said nodding toward Clarus and Cor. “The little shit is fine, don’t let their display trouble you.”

The light laugh at Wes’ slight to the youngest of their group fell without permission, but Regis felt he owed Wes an answer. He’d looked after Regis for so long, Wes would know a lie if he heard it. “You think _this_ troubles me?” He cleared his throat before continuing. “I’d be more concerned about Cor shoving Clarus into the water for the fun of it over their sparring, but that’s not it.”

Wes hummed in response. The annoying habit usually irked Regis, but for some reason carried comfort in its sound. “If it’s not them, and you feel well enough, then what concerns you?”

“I wish I knew,” his voice a near whisper. “Wes, if I asked you to remain in Altissia and not travel to our destination, would you?”

“An order, Highness?”

A deep sigh answered before Regis could speak. “No, not an order, not a request from prince to steward-but a plea to a friend.”

Stunned, Weskham’s eyes widened. “Then my presence on this mission troubles you?”

Was Wes right? Regis had relied on Weskham as tutor, steward, chef and most importantly as his closest friend, but this was far different; they were heading into battle to hold back the Niflheim Empire. “Clarus and Cor have faced many foes–both are soldiers first. Cid cares little for anything and merely swings that infernal hammer without prejudice, his head as hard as the weapon he wields. But to ask this of you, it seems wrong in some way to drag you into danger; as if I failed you by not insisting on your safety.”

Weskham nodded, clasping his hand on Regis’ shoulder. “I choose to follow you and walk by your side as I have done since we met.”

“Wes-”

The rich laughter from Weskham and shake of his head revealed he’d finished the conversation. “I’ll be fine,” he said, quieting his voice and leaning closer. “Besides, I know enough to hide behind the big guy. Hell, we all could.” Weskham shrugged. “It’s probably far safer too, with him swinging that monstrosity of a sword around.”

This time the laugh from Regis felt more real; Weskham’s reassurances lifting the heavy weight from his chest.

Clarus and Cor stopped long enough for Clarus to shout across the deck. “Reg? Everything all right?”

Regis nodded and waved him off. _For now, yes._


	11. Day 11: Endgame - altered excerpt from original fiction-Beyond Blackwillow Marsh

The years of research meant nothing next to a rising body count, and it had taken him nearly twenty to understand the truth; Camellia had gradually descended into a state of numbness, dissolving what remained of her compassion and empathy. Their conversation was all the proof Alden needed.

_“We failed, Cam.”_

_Unmoved, she sipped from her water glass. “No, we didn’t. It’s a setback. Reset the system, sweep the dome and start again.”_

_He stood so abruptly, the chair toppled backward clattering to the floor. “You can’t! It’s genocide!”_

_It was Camellia’s laugh that disturbed him most, so cold and devoid of emotion. “You act as though you care, Al. Those people on the inside agreed to this,” she said with a shrug, “the eradication is necessary to preserve the interior. We’ll find new subjects. I promise-in time-you’ll forget. You’ll see.”_

_“But I will never forget!” Alden slammed his hand on the table. “All those people? Have you no conscience?”_

He’d silenced the security system knowing the claxon and voice prompts would bring a host of security guards to his position and Alden needed five more minutes. The experiment had failed. It would be a matter of time before Camellia covered up that failure with a complete sterilization of the area inside the dome.

The superuser access Abe created had worked perfectly. On the screen in front of him he reviewed the status of the system protocols, all but the final three locked. Sweat drenched his shirt, rivulets of exertion running down his back. He’d torn out the control boards from the mainframe and the backups, smashing each to guarantee the system couldn’t be salvaged.  

 _By now the air scrubbers have opened full, filtering the dust and eradicating the microbes over the settlements_ , he reminded himself, running through the protocols that mattered most.  _The water supply beyond the marshes should be in purification mode._ Alden’s eyes scanned the lists of each completed task. “All that’s left is to disengage the sentry programs, the holo-projectors and terminate access.”

Far down the corridor, Camellia’s shrieking grew louder. Alden ignored her.

“Alden! Don’t you dare! Don’t you fucking dare!”

His fingers deftly typed in the final commands disengaging the security systems; the screen blinking a final warning.

_Erase all user access requested. WARNING: Action Irreversible! Continue?_

A single letter on the keyboard set the system to purge. “Too late,” he said, leaning back in his chair.


	12. Day 12: The Case of the Perfect Mabari - Cullen Rutherford x Valerie Trevelyan (Dragon Age: Inquisition Post Trespasser)

A mystery had presented itself over night. Four holes appeared in the front yard overnight, and Cullen stood perplexed scratching his head.

“Who could do this?”

Valerie sat on the top step, shaking her head. “Cullen, really? It’s as plain as day–AJ did it.”

She’d told him the same thing at least half a dozen times, but Cullen seemed determined to dismiss the notion that their mabari Ajax could have perpetrated such vandalism. He waved away her comment. “Not possible, Ajax was inside when I bolted the door.

She laughed. “So? He’s pulled the bolt before. Why not last night?”

“Val, you’re mistaken; AJ cannot pull the bolt,” he said, his conviction carried in a curt nod.

Rolling her eyes would do little, so instead Valerie sought to prove things as only Cullen could accept. She rose and took slow, deliberate steps toward him. “I’m willing to bet AJ can pull the bolt and has done so on many occasions.”

“Impossible. He is far too well trained, I made sure of it. This was not AJ.”

Cullen crossed his arms and settled on his feet.  _The challenge is issued_ , she thought as a smile widened on her face. “And furthermore! Not only did your perfectly trained mabari dig these holes, but I’ll prove he closed the bolt when he came back in. Loser has to keep the barn for a month-without complaint.”

He laughed. “I do that already.”

“Then it won’t be a burden when you lose, will it?”

The experiment Valerie had in mind would be simple. She called AJ inside and dug into the salt barrel for a dried fish-AJ’s favorite treat. He barked excitedly, turning around and around in circles-first to the right and then to the left. Valerie instructed Cullen to command AJ to stay while she dangled the fish for him to see, placing it just outside the front door on the deck.

AJ complained in a series of barks and whines, appealing to whoever would listen, but Val ignored him.  Closing the front door, she secured the bolt. “Now, we wait.” Valerie dragged Cullen into the guest room and closed the door, separating them from AJ.

Once inside, Cullen protested; he insisted AJ wasn’t capable of sliding the bolt free and opening the door. And then, it happened. The scrape of nails on the wood door was followed by the scrape of metal against metal as the bolt slid against the latch.

“Well trained,” she said with a scoff, “all that hard work ignored for simple dried fish.” She clucked her tongue in feigned disappointment.

Cullen hummed in response, his brow furrowed. Before either could speak, the hinges of the front door squeaked from movement, and AJ bounded out through the open door. A moment later, the door closed and the same metallic scrape alerted them to the end of AJ’s mission.

Disbelief and shock carried in the shake of Cullen’s head and a long drawn-out sigh. “He wouldn’t,” Cullen said. “He didn’t.”

“He did.”


	13. Day 13: Witcher Cullen: Dragon Age AU “Try harder, next time.”

Dorian was late-again. Cullen lay stretched out atop the stone wall in the garden, his arm covered his face to block the harsh sunlight.

“Anytime now Dorian,” Cullen grumbled for the fifth time. “You’d think I’d be used to this by now.”

Alexius had retreated to his study; now that he’d created the first Witcher in years, he’d changed. Both Cullen and Dorian guessed Alexius afraid of Cullen, he’d barely spoken to him since the transformation succeeded.

And Dorian? He’d often lose himself in the texts and documents they’d received from the Archon; his need to learn everything about the witcher schools of Tevinter’s past and Cullen’s limitations often bordered on an obsession, leaving Cullen to wait for hours on end for his training regimen.

“Fuck this,” Cullen said and whistled sharply. “Hey! Get over here!” Dog was a wyvern; a runt that Felix had found injured and kept. He was somewhat tame, and his favorite playtime involved chasing Cullen around the grounds and roughhousing.  His scales were grey but the underbelly and claws were patterned in stripes of alternating shades of green. A boney ridge stretched from the top of his head to halfway down his back.

Dog’s legs were stubby, he couldn’t run fast but had enormous strength. Cullen often had to slow his movements so as not to move too far ahead. The real problem was, Dog’s pride often got in the way. If he couldn’t do something or failed at an attempt, he’d sulk for hours. Cullen needed exercise so that meant keeping Dog happy.

Scooping up the bucket of apples, Cullen crossed the garden tossing apples gently toward the lumbering creature.

“Nap time’s over.”

Dog hissed in reply and then yawned.

“Not very menacing, my friend.”

The wyvern’s feet smacked the ground with each step, his head swiveled from side to side as if he searched for something.

“I don’t know where Dorian is, he’s late.” Dog loved to torture Dorian, he’d never bite or scratch anyone other than Cullen, somehow aware that everyone else in the villa was far more fragile than his witcher playmate.

The two met near a large tree, but Dog sat down and rolled on his side, a sign he wasn’t into anything rigorous. “You’ve got a point,” Cullen conceded, dropping next to the large creature before scooting back to rest against the tree. Tevinter was always far too warm for Cullen. He missed rain and snow and the passage of the seasons. “All right,” Cullen said, running his hands through his long hair. “One nap, but then you promise to help me, got it?”

Dog’s theatrical crawl toward Cullen ended with the wyvern resting his head In Cullen’s lap and the two closed their eyes.

Minutes passed, and both had settled into a slow and easy breathing rhythm until Dorian hurried in the garden throwing apologies and excuses left and right.

“Isn’t this a sweet little scene? A witcher and his little dog, too.”

Cullen raised his index finger to his lips and hushed Dorian. “We waited forever. It’s nap time.”

“Don’t exaggerate. I’ve apologized but let us attempt to salvage the afternoon.”

 Patting the wyvern on his flank, Cullen opened one eye. “No deal. Come back later. We’re busy.”

“I don’t know who is moodier, you or that overgrown lizard. I was working on your formulas, you know. I tried to be more mindful of the time.”

Cullen settled against the tree truck and sighed, his eyes still closed. “Try harder, next time.”


	14. Day 14: No One Lives Forever: Cor Leonis Final Fantasy XV (pre-game)

# No One Lives Forever

Day 14: “Some people call this wisdom.”

Fanfiction

Final Fantasy XV

No Pairing, Cor Leonis

A young Cor Leonis prepares to leave for Taelpar Crag.

————————— 

At fifteen, Cor Leonis had grown tired of the side glances and whispers; he’d detested being labeled a prodigy as if his skill meant nothing at all. The real issue was clear to him; far too many were jealous of his accomplishments and it wasn’t his problem if others weren’t good enough. He was better.

King Mors had ordered several expeditions to Taelpar Crag after a group of hunters had discovered the entrance and caves below the Crag, but none of those expeditions returned. No one could be sure what waited at the base of the Taelpar Crag; rumors and speculation circulated alluding to a tempering ground for warriors, and somewhere deep within the long-forgotten caves roamed a legend.

Cor didn’t care to explore the caves; the legend called to him, and he would answer.  

But first, he’d have to get by Clarus. Cor had already been warned Regis’ shield searched for him; keeping one step ahead of Clarus Amicitia wasn’t impossible, but he had to hurry.  Cor kept to the service corridors, his preferred method of navigating the Citadel. As soon as he hit the stairwell, Cor slid down the handrails to save time.

Most of the King’s staff had grown used to Cor’s strange ways, many moving from his path to allow the young man to pass quickly. Cor exited on the basement level, knowing the foot traffic to be that much lighter in the morning hours. Passing the Crownsguard main desk, the guard on duty paid little attention to Cor’s departure.

As Cor reached for the door, a familiar voice called out to him, when the first word dropped Cor knew he’d be in for an argument.  _Not now Clarus_.  

“Going somewhere?”

Cor closed his eyes and resisted the urge to snap back. “I’m busy. I’ll be back in a few days.”  He didn’t want to turn and face Clarus, knowing what waited.

“I’d like to know the reason I shouldn’t stop you. Convince me or don’t, but since you’re too much of a shit to tell Reg what you plan to do, I think you owe me that much.”

Shoulders stiffened, but Cor kept his voice controlled. “I don’t need your permission.  I can handle this.”

The exaggerated scoff from Clarus scratched against Cor’s nerves, adding to his aggravation. “No, you don’t need my permission, but you’re abandoning Reg for some fantasy you cooked up in your head. Cor the Magnificent off to slay the giant. News flash, kid. Sometimes, the giant wins.”

Confidence replied, “not against me he doesn’t.”

“Gods dammit, Cor! There’s more at stake here.” Clarus pulled on the younger man’s shoulder, but a defiant yank changed Clarus’ tone. “Fine. I’m sorry I grabbed you. Let’s talk about this. I’m the one who’ll have to spin this for Reg, so give me a break, all right?” Clarus tried a light smile and gestured toward one of the side rooms. “No fighting, no judgement, just talk.”

“Not this time. I’m going-and I’m coming back. There’s nothing more to discuss.”  Cor finally met Clarus’ eyes not expecting the concern they radiated.

“You would abandon your duty for personal glory?”

The words stung. Glory wasn’t what he was after; at least he didn’t think so. “I have to prove I am worthy to guard the king. I believe I am. It’s you and the Guard who don’t agree.”

“Untrue. I don’t doubt your skill, my friend. I won’t lie, my doubts center on your ability to think beyond yourself; how will you protect the king if you consistently put yourself first?” Clarus stepped back, a visible sign of his mental state. Cor understood Clarus wasn’t trying to fight him, but he didn’t need Clarus; he didn’t  _need_  anyone.

“I’ve got this. Trust me.” It was clear in the shake of Clarus’ head that he didn’t, and that irked Cor even more.

“I’m trying to help you. I thought you might listen to my opinion and suggestions.” He stepped closer and rested a hand on Cor’s shoulder, his voice quieted even more. “Some people call this wisdom, but the decision is yours. Think about what it means if you fail-you would abandon the royal family for naught.”

Cor stared into Clarus’ face. As far as he could tell, Clarus was genuine, but it changed nothing. “I’m going- _and_ -I’m coming back.” Nothing would stand in his way, whatever it was that waited at the Crag, Cor would face it and succeed.


	15. Day 15: Gladio Amicitia x Female OC Final Fantasy XV (pre-game)

  
Day 15: “I thought you had forgotten.”  
Fanfiction  
Final Fantasy XV  
Gladio x OC (Ava Callidus)

The mirror didn’t lie, the hairline scrapes on her face hadn’t healed well at all, and Ava had to wonder if the line dissecting her face from below her right eye to mid-cheek would be a permanent scar. She’d never taken to wearing makeup before, but turning her face sideways, Ava wondered if covering up the proof of her jump might be prudent.

“No one cares but you,” she said to her reflection before sticking out her tongue at her double staring back at her. Exhaling, Ava gripped the sink with her hands. “This is it.” She straightened, closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind.  _I did it Mac, I’m going to be inducted into the Guard._

Ava never called her father anything other than his preferred name since he had died ten years prior-not that it mattered. Mac never believed in the next life, so the hope that he had any knowledge of what she’d done died along with him. The screen on her phone flashed once before the King’s Knight theme announced the caller – Gladio.

The smile that bloomed on her face as she answered did so without her permission. “Hey, tough guy.”

“”Sup? So, you ready or what?”

She didn’t understand the question, there had been no plans made between them other than to meet up later depending on his schedule. Gladiolus had responsibilities that not even she could interrupt. “Ready for what?”

Ava heard Gladio talking to another before he returned. “Hang on here’s Iggy.”

“Lady Avis,” Ignis quickly apologized for using the formal, “Ava, apologies. The Marshal asked us to collect you this morning. You are aware that today is your swearing in to the Crownsguard?”

Trying not to laugh, Ava replied, “of course I am.”

“Excellent, for a moment I thought you had forgotten, and that little fall of yours impacted your memory.”

 _That little fall of yours_ , she thought. Leave it to Ignis to understate the truth. “My  _little fall_  notwithstanding, I am unsure why the both of you are so invested.” Ava fully expected Ignis and Gladio to pull away as soon as their training obligations had passed. Ava was certain after today she’d be warned to steer clear of Gladiolus Amicitia. There was no room for personal feelings in the Guard and she expected the Marshal to insist they terminate their involvement.

She heard Gladio’s frustration and the sound of the phone passing to him. “Sorry Iggy,” he said before his voice cleared. “Hey, stop overthinking everything braniac. We’re waiting outside.”


	16. Day 16: "This is gonna be so much fun." Final Fantasy XV (pregame) no pairing

 

Day 16 “This is gonna be so much fun!”

 

It was mid-morning when the four finally settled back into the regalia, the trunk loaded with bags. “So much for an early start,” Ignis said closing the trunk.

Gladio’s laugh did little for the mood. “Hey, you never know what they’ll have out there. For all you know, Ebony may not be available where we’re going,” he said with a shrug before tossing a wink toward Noctis.

The eye roll in response confirmed Noctis understood Gladio was teasing, but he figured an extra nudge couldn’t hurt. “Yeah Specs,” he said with an exaggerating nod of his head, “think about that. That would suck.”

Prompto fiddled with his camera until he gasped and straightened, hurry to Noctis side. “Dude. What if they don’t have chips? Then what? I mean, we’re not gonna starve or be forced to eat like healthy and stuff, right?”

The dismissive wave from Noctis accompanied his reassurances. “Hell no. We’re going to drive fast, stay up late, sleep even later and eat garbage.”

Ignis hummed in response. “Oh, are we? I wasn’t aware of the change in plans. When exactly did you plan on doing all of this Highness?”

Noctis clasped his hand on Ignis shoulder. “Because, this is a road trip and,” he paused and smiled, “ we will enjoy it-that includes you Ignis.”

A raised brow answered before Ignis crossed his arms. “I see. Then perhaps we should stop all this shopping the two of you insisted upon and get out on the road?”

Prompto and Noctis agreed, and both hurried to the driver’s side door, speaking at the same time. “I’m driving.”

“Oh hell no,” added Gladio.

Ignis had to reign in the group and get them moving; leaving this to a consensus would mean they’d never leave Insomnia. “Everyone get in, we’ll talk about driving arrangements once we’re outside the city.”

The agreement lasted all of five minutes. Once Ignis turned the car onto the highway, Prompto began his campaign for a turn at the wheel. “This is gonna be so much fun! But, you know what would make it totally awesome?”

Gladio leaned forward. “I don’t know Prompto, maybe if you could shut up for more than five minutes?”

“Harsh. Real harsh,” Prompto said. “Not gonna happen, but maybe if I got a turn at the wheel? I’d have to pay attention and then I wouldn’t be able to talk-”

“Doubtful,” Ignis added, “we’ve already wasted far too much time. A joyride with the Regalia in your hands is out of the question.”

Refusing to give in, Prompto began a campaign of begging and pleading, adding in promises and reasons to be allowed a small opportunity; the onslaught continued until Gladio had no choice but to side with Prompto.

“Iggy please, before I lose it; let the kid drive. At least we’d get a damn break.”

Despite the obvious disagreement in the shake of his head, Ignis deferred to Noctis. “I will leave the decision to you, Noct.”

He answered with a shrug. “Yeah, okay. What’s the worst that could happen?”

 

 


	17. Day 17: “I’ll tell you but you’re not gonna like it.” Dragon Age: Inquisition Cullen Rutherford x Valerie Trevelyan

Something was going on, Valerie knew it. She could smell the trouble from outside the Herald’s Rest and guessed it had to do with the usual suspects. No music played, which clued Valerie to something not quite right.

Next, she heard the occasional cheer followed quickly with an even louder round of voices hushing one another.  Standing near the door, she heard footfalls behind her and smiled.

“Commander.”

He cleared his throat and responded in kind. “Inquisitor. It would appear the three are at it again.”

She hummed in response. The three in question were Varric, Dorian and Bull. If left alone for too long, wagers and challenges often surfaced with little regard for personal safety or common sense. She waited for a moment considering what the three may have devised this time. “Whose turn is it?”

He joined her, standing close enough for his fingers to touch hers for a moment. “Your turn, I believe. I broke up the mouse races last time.”

She nodded. “Right. Mouse races.” Valerie leaned against his shoulder. “I had the eating contest before that,” she said and sighed. “How long do you think it’ll take?”

He shrugged. “No more than a few minutes. “  Cullen moved behind her and let his hand glide along her back. “See you soon?”

Another hum answered his question as she stepped toward the door.  Valerie wondered if they’d locked it this time, but the latch gave way without effort.  A sudden quiet descended the moment Valerie entered.  “Do I want to know?”

Varric was the first to respond, his feigned laughter fell as he shifted through the patrons all standing near the back of the tavern.  “You see, Inquisitor, here’s the thing-”

“Spare me the story and get to the punchline.”  She wasn’t really angry, Valerie understood all their games and ridiculous antics were the result of their stressful field excursions. No one ever got hurt, and as long as they owned up to their behavior, Valerie didn’t care.

Glancing back toward the group, Varric gestured behind him.  “Oh, that? I’ll tell you, but you’re not gonna like it.”

She nodded. “I figured as much.”

“Pickled eggs,” he said.

“Pickled . . .pickled what?”

“Eggs,” Varric said, “Tiny’s up to eighteen so far.  I can put you down for a few coin, I think he’s going to double that number.”

Valerie didn’t know what to say, at first she was disappointed the night’s shenanigans fell to yet another eating competition, but the thought of what Bull attempted turned her stomach. “That’s positively revolting.”

“Yeah, it’s not so bad here, but get up close and it’s worse than being downwind from a druffalo.”


	18. Day 18:“You should have seen it.” Dragon Age: Inquisition Cullen Rutherford and Valerie Trevelyan

Despite the crowd near the back of the tavern, the usual conversation had given way to an enraptured silence. Newly returned from the west, Varric held court by torch light recounting the tales of their adventure, every word carefully chosen and delivered in such theatrical fashion those gathered feared even the slightest movement lest they disturb the tale.

“You should have seen it,” Varric said, scanning the crowd, willing them to hang on his words. “The dragon perched on a stone tomb her eyes fixed on the Inquisitor.” He quieted his voice. “There comes a time when you realize death is staring right through you and  _this_  was one of those times.”

The second floor sat empty save one table tucked away, its candle unlit as well as the torches nearby. No one approached the private conversation; carried in low tones the Commander and Inquisitor leaned in with only a table to separate them.

 “Are you content with Varric’s interpretation? I’ve come to realize whenever he begins a tale with  _you should have seen it_ , he is more likely to embellish and fabricate events to delight his audience over telling the truth.”  The amusement accompanying Cullen’s words dissipated. “Your thoughts are elsewhere. What troubles you?”

Valerie stared into the mug in front of her, the drink untouched. For a moment she said nothing and did not acknowledge Cullen’s question. Her eyes unfocused; a silent conversation revealed in changing expressions the only sign of her awareness.

“Val?”

A forced polite smile offered little insight into her thoughts; Cullen had to wait until she was ready to talk.

“The world’s gone mad and you’ve chosen a fool to lead you. You know I’m right, Cullen.” She didn’t wait for him to reply. “I’d wanted to be a Warden, did I tell you that? Probably not.” She laughed; the sound lacked any of her usual warmth, caustic and harsh in its delivery. “It just wouldn’t  _do_ ,” she explained. “It was bad enough I’d disappointed the family when I’d insisted on joining the Seekers. Mother even tried to order me back to the Circle.”

He couldn’t see how Valerie’s achievement would be dismissed by her family. “Acceptance into the Seekers of Truth is an honor; Lady Cassandra even confirmed you served with-”

“You don’t understand.” She closed her eyes.

“Perhaps I don’t.”

Gripping the mug in her hands, Valerie didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m not  _her_  anymore. Too many risks, too many mistakes-there’s far more lives at stake now, it’s not just my own. I don’t think I can do this.”

“You aren’t alone in your tasks.” He glanced at her gloved hand. “There are limitations to what each of us brings to your endeavors, but you only have to ask. No one expects you to shoulder it all.”

Valerie blinked several times before closing her eyes and exhaling. “All right.” She turned and listened to Varric’s story shaking her head. “He’s got it all wrong, you know.”

“How so?”

She shrugged. “There was no bravery from any of us on that plateau; we ran around looking for cover, swearing every other word and cursing the idea of facing the dragon. I think it was dumb luck we beat it at all.”


	19. Day 19: “Oh please, like this is the worst I have done.” Dragon Age Inquisition Cullen Rutherford x Valerie Trevelyan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Depression

Day 19: “Oh please, like this is the worst I have done.”

Fanfiction

_The infirmary. You should go._

Even before Dorian could finish, Cullen had raced out the door and down the stairs. “Not again,” he said, as deliberate steps carried him across the courtyard, his concern bloomed into fear by the time he reached the door thanks to those gathered.

A small group had remained behind in the aftermath of Corypheus’ defeat. The goals had changed; Valerie looked for rifts still open across Thedas and offering aid where needed. At least, that was the story she told; the harsh reality that accompanied their every return began to wear on him. It had been easy to dismiss the same situations before as necessary during wartime or unforeseeable circumstances that required split second decisions.

Conversations with Dorian over the years had confirmed his speculations; Valerie often had little regard for herself, never quite seeing how her decisions looked to those who cared for her. She dismissed any attempts to talk about these events and often waved them away as part of the role she played.

Bull and Vivienne blocked the doorway offering explanations.

“She’s fine,” Bull said, holding up his hand. “It looks worse than it is.”

A dour glance from Vivienne stopped Bull’s explanation. “Shall we frighten the Commander a bit more?” Shifting her attention to Cullen, Vivienne assured him Valerie was receiving the best care. “Valerie refused any healing magic and insisted on seeing the surgeon. At worst, she will have earned another scar; I assure you there is no danger to her.”

 Bull crossed his arms and settled on his feet. “Didn’t I just say that?”

“Dragon or demon?” Cullen’s question surprised them both and the two exchanged a glance saying nothing. “It’s a simple question. What was it this time? Dragon or demon?”

“Dragon,” Bull replied. “The Hinterlands are clear; without the dragon, the construction on the docks can start again.”

“I see.” The lack of emotion and recognition carried over into Cullen’s request. “Move.”

Viviene’s pursed lips spoke of her displeasure at the slight, but Cullen had reached a new level of irritation where politeness proved a waste of time.  It fell to Bull to make the first move, leading Vivienne away from the door, giving Cullen a clear path inside.

“He’s pissed,” Bull offered.

“Is he now?” Vivienne replied with sarcasm and indifference. “I couldn’t tell amid the rather pointed glares and curt words.”

Once inside, Cullen’s mood worsened. Valerie sat facing away from the door, her back bare and bloodied. “Whoever you are, get out,” she said with a sigh. Even the slightest shift pulled a hiss of pain from her lips.

His eyes watered in sympathy at the tight row of three gashes carved into her flesh. Only the largest on the left had been stitched, the other two had not needed such attention. Anger met with concern and diminished at the sight of her wounds. “Oh Val, why?”

She stiffened at his voice, and while surprised at her reaction to his presence, he waited for the explanation. “Oh please, like this is the worst I have done,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s a bit painful, that’s all. I’ll heal.”

“I would assume so.” He kept his voice even and controlled, despite the need to understand.

“Don’t, all right? The dragon is gone; the workers can return and complete the dock. That’s what matters.”

“So I’ve been told.” He asked the surgeon if anything more was required, requesting a few moments for private conversation. Ignoring Val’s protests, he rubbed his mouth and chin, hoping to temper his behavior until they had the room. When the door closed and afforded them some measure of privacy, Cullen pulled a chair and sat behind her.

“I can’t turn round, come to where I can see you,” she said. “It’s not like you’ve never seen my body before.”

Even the lightness to her voice did little to relax him. “No, I’m fine here.”  Sitting forward in the chair, he leaned even more, his eyes fixed on the floor. “What are you doing? Forget docks, charity, what have you and tell me the truth.  Have you no regard for your own life? After everything you went through, everything you achieved, are you still looking for the fastest route to your end? Have you no consideration for your friends? For me?”

Her voice fell to a whisper. “You don’t understand.”

“We have this same conversation again and _again_ and _again_.”  A grumble accompanied a harsh rub of his face with both hands. “Explain it to me, then. There is none here but us. Don’t hide from me.” He handed her the tunic near the table, hoping that some normalcy might help.

She shook her head. “it hurts to move, I’m all right, but if my bare skin is a problem, we can do this later.”

“Valerie. I offered the tunic for your peace of mind, not mine. Your _nakedness_ is not the issue, your complete lack of self-preservation and seemingly determined wish to injure yourself is what troubles me.”

A slight tremor took hold of Valerie. “What do you want from me?”

“You are the leader of the Inquisition! Act like it! Others look to you for guidance. They see your actions and want to emulate you!”

Her head dropped, and she shook her head. “I am no hero, it would be better to forget me.”

Cullen’s heart dropped in his chest at what her words might mean. He’d not considered anything between them would change. “Valerie. You. . .you can’t mean that.  Not now.”

“Some days I do, but others I wonder if I am,” she paused, “if I am enough.”  

     


	20. Day 20: Geralt of Rivia x Yennefer of Vengerberg Witcher3: The Wild Hunt (post game)

Eyes closed, Geralt settled into the tub letting the scalding water work through his tired limbs. The sigh of contentment met with a light laugh. “Damn, now that is the perfect bath. Thanks, Yen.”

“Nearly scalding and unfit for anyone other than you,” Yennfer said. “Don’t you dare fall asleep, we’re expected.”

Geralt disagreed and shifted in the tub. “We’re Cerys’ guests and I remember her exact words were to rest my tired bones and join in the feast later-if I was so inclined.” He leaned back and closed his eyes. “I’m not. We’ll check in later.”

The warning in Yennefer’s response carried her displeasure. “Geralt.”

“Come on, Yen. An hour-maybe two and then I’ll think about it.”

Yennefer hummed in response. The sound dug its way through his need to relax and scratched at the back of his neck; a slight irritation that would grow until it permeated every nerve in his body. He knew exactly what it meant; he had missed some crucial point or comment and he was about to find out his time was not his own. “What did I miss?”

“Get dressed, I’ve brought a few appropriate garments-all will be to your liking,” she offered while moving deeper into the room. “Oh! And I hope you have a speech prepared!” When Yennefer left the room for the adjoining space, Geralt stood abruptly.

Rivulets of water tumbled in haphazard paths along his skin, collecting in the large tub. When Yennefer returned, she stopped short, taking in the sight of Geralt’s naked form. “As enticing as the view may be, we’ll have time later.” She paused, her smirk and widening eyes disappearing as quickly as they emerged. “Now, if you don’t mind? Clothing would be best with the crowd in the hall and don’t forget to toast Cerys at some point during the evening. It’s been two years since she became queen and she has never forgotten your support. It will be expected.”

“You sure you want me to make a speech?” Geralt wasn’t known for his warmth or ability to speak in formal situations. Known for brief half sentences and unconventional solutions to most situations, Geralt of Rivia, Witcher and friend to Skellige would never be mistaken for a chosen orator.

A light tap of Yennefer’s foot against the stone floor revealed she considered his remark. “You make a valid point, but it will be expected. Perhaps consider what you might say in Cirilla’s case if the situation were similar.”

He laughed. “I’d end up embarrassing her somehow, even if I didn’t mean to.”

Yennefer pressed her lips together to hide her amusement earning a shrug from Geralt. “On second thought, perhaps I will write something for you to read.”

 


	21. Day 21: Final Fantasy XV (pregame) No pairing, Chocobros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the day before exams, Noctis and Prompto face the prospect of a small bet from Ignis.

“Prompto, while I understand it is none of my business, perhaps studying before a test might yield a more favorable result?”

Ignis hadn’t looked up from his preparation; he’d insisted on a proper meal before Noctis’ first day of exams.

Tossing a notebook on the coffee table, Noctis reached for his soda can finding it empty. “Ignis has a point, you know. I thought we were going to study.”  

“Mm-hmm,” Prompto’s grip on the game controller tightened, he spoke slowly ducking and leaning as he played, mimicking the game character on the television. “Right after I finish this level.”

“What’s it been now, like two weeks and you’re still not through it?” He grinned at the slight smile on Ignis’ face that disappeared almost as soon as it appeared. “Come on, Prom-you promised to help me out,” he said as he opened the refrigerator and reached for another can.

The tab of the can popped, its hollow sound giving way to soft fizzing noise. Noctis sipped from the can, standing off to Ignis’ right. He frowned at the sight of small piles of finely chopped vegetables on the cutting board. “Can we skip the veg in my omelet? I’m not feeling it tonight Ignis. Besides, I’ll end up picking them out anyway, isn’t that like, a waste?”

From across the room, Prompto laughed. “Dude, like you’re  _ever_  feeling ready for veggies. It’s like just not gonna happen, you know?”

Ignis continued his ministrations, adding small pieces of various meats and cheeses to the board. “It is a waste, most certainly and I can assure you will not sour your meal in the slightest. Everything I have chosen pairs well with the other ingredients. At least consider trying it before you refuse.”

“I have tried before and I’m positive. Veggies are a no go. So, give mine to Prompto. He needs all the help he can get.”

“Hey! I heard that!”

Noctis tried a sad and pleading look at Ignis, to earn a sigh, a shake of his head and most importantly a concession. “I’ll consider it.”

“Thanks.”

A hum in response carried a hint of displeasure, but Noctis shrugged continuing his path back to the living room. “All right, that’s enough. Turn off the game.” He tried to swipe the controller away, Prompto dodging Noctis’ sweeping grab.

“Ha! You missed,” Prompto said. “It’s not like it matters. I’m not smart.”

Brows knit together and Noctis crouched in front of him. “That’s a hell of an attitude, my friend.”

“Why? It’s true you know.”

Unhappy with his friend’s self-assessment, Noctis moved in front of the television blocking Prompto’s view with his arms crossed and a deepening frown. “Not cool. You’re better than that and I’ll bet you anything you’ll pass tomorrow-if you stop messing around.”

For the first time since the dinner preparations began, Ignis stopped. “Anything? Then might I suggest a wager?”

A quick glance in Ignis’ direction carried with it Noctis’ concern. “What kind of wager?”

“Well, let’s say this. If Prompto fails to pass his exam tomorrow, you will submit to the vegetarian dish of my choosing,” he said, stepping out from the behind the kitchen counter. “However, through study and diligence, if Prompto succeeds? I will prepare a weeks’ worth of food to both of your specifications  _without_  a single complaint.”

Noctis’ skepticism answered for him. “Why do I think there’s a hidden catch in this?”

“There is none I assure you, merely the motivation for Prompto to succeed knowing your abhorrence for all things leafy and green.”

The controller dropped from Prompto’s hand. “So, like if I fail then Noct has to eat his vegetables?”

Ignis nodded.

Prompto’s hands rose to his temples. “I don’t know. That’s like. . .I don’t know.”

“My life is in your hands Prom,” Noctis added. “So how about we study and get Ignis to make up whatever we want for a week.”

Prompto motioned for Noctis to come closer. When he spoke his voice never rose above a whisper. “Dude, what if I fail? Then it’s my fault.”

“You won’t. That’s what friends do, right? We help each other.”

Prompto nodded, a half-smile on his face. “Okay, it’s a deal, but I have to change the bet.” Prompto said, turning his attention to Ignis. “If Noct tries to help me and I come close, you can’t force him to eat that stuff-all right? It’s not fair to punish Noct if I mess up.”  

“I see. Then if you will endeavor to try your best, I will consider a change in consequence.” Ignis stepped into the living room and offered his hand. “To know Noct has friends willing to save him from the terror of vegetables is a comfort, Prompto. Impressive, truly.”

Standing behind Prompto, Noctis didn’t miss Ignis’ raised brow and the hint of a smile.

 

 


	22. Day 22: Dragon Age Inquisition, no pairing.  Heads I Win, Tails You Lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A friendly wager seems simple enough, but with Varric you never quite know what the catch may be.

Fictober2018

Day 22: “I know how you love to play games.”  
Dragon Age:Inquisition

“I know how you love to play games Sparkler, that’s all; it’s a simple game, nothing more.”   Varric almost toppled his mug, narrowly missing it with his elbow.

“Is that right?” Dorian grinned, leaning forward. “I’m intrigued; only because I know there’s a catch hidden somewhere in your _simple_ game, Varric.”  Eyes fixed, both held the other locked in a friendly test of wills. Varric’s blank faced changed as the left corner of his mouth rose into a half smirk. Dorian laughed in response, slapping his hand against the table top. “All right, what do you have in mind?”

Bull passed a sideways glance toward Dorian. “Oh, this is going to be good.” He took a large gulp from his mug before returning it to the table.

No one paid attention to the three sitting in a back corner, Maryden’s songs carried through every open space, covering most conversations to an unintelligible murmur. Those who frequented the tavern in the wee hours knew better than to venture too close.

On any given night, any one of the three might take your money in Wicked Grace or games of chance, but the one thing all of Skyhold knew-never to lay a wager with Varric. He had an uncanny way of turning even the worst outcome to his favor.

Sitting across from Varric, Dorian regarded his friend. “What exactly are we talking about this time and more importantly what is the wager?”

“The wager is simple.” Varric tossed his coin pouch in his hand, as if the act could gauge the exact number of coins within it. “Last night’s winnings are yours-if I lose only once.”

Skeptical, Dorian’s slightly raised brow preceded his question. “A single loss,” he pointed to the coin pouch, “and all that is mine? Debts settled and all that?”

“You got it Sparkler, so are you in or not?”

Dorian scanned the tables. “First, where is our illustrious leader? I’d prefer to skip last night’s performance.”

Bull laughed and leaned back in his chair. “She’s over there talking with Cullen. I wasn’t the one who tried to smuggle the nugs into Skyhold.”

Varric shrugged. “Hey, I still say the nug races were a good idea.” Shaking his head, Varric continued. “It’s not my fault the pen broke. I keep it interesting here and that requires a bit of imagination.”

“It’s a fine line between imagination and stupidity Varric.” Dorian craned his neck to check on the Inquisitor, she was definitely engaged in conversation and being so far across the room couldn’t possibly hear their conversation. “Please continue.”

Varric held up a gold coin flicking it up with his thumb, it turned end over end until it landed in his hand. “It’s easy, Sparkler.” Varric flipped the coin again. “The games been around for a long time, it’s easy to play, heads or tails, your choice. Heads I win, tails you lose, but you have to choose quickly to win. So what will it be?”

Dorian watched as Varric gave the coin a more forceful flick causing it to spin in the air before landing once more in his palm. “I’m in.”

Bull shook his head. “Dorian, you don’t-”

Cutting Bull off, he hushed him. “Not now.”

The coin landed on the table spinning and teetering until it rested and the three peered at the coin as it stopped. “It’s heads,” Bull said without inflection.  

Varric grinned and snatched the coin. “I win.”

Dorian cursed, and Bull continued his interruptions, earning the attention of someone else. Valerie Trevelyan rested a hand on Varric’s shoulder.

“What’s the damage tonight?” She smiled, but all three feigned innocence stating they were just talking. “What did you win Varric?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged and shifted his attention to his drink, placing the coin on the table.

Valerie pointed at the coin. “What was the game?”

“A coin toss,” Bull offered with a pointed glance at Varric.

She seemed to accept the answer and nearly walked away. “Let me try. It’s a game of chance, right?”

Reluctance coated Varric’s response. “Yeah, but we’re done,” he said, looking to the others to help change the subject, but it was clear from the way Bull leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms-Varric was on his own. “It’s not important? How about a few hands of Wicked Grace?”

Valerie gave his shoulder a playful shove and sat next to him. “Come on, what’s the wager?”

Without taking his eyes from Varric, Bull answered. “If he loses, Dorian gets last night’s haul.”

She whistled in surprise. “Wow, that’s . . .that’s either the dumbest bet ever or there’s something you’re hiding.”

He laughed, nerves barely covered by the feigned sound. “That hurts.”

“Val’s not wrong.” Bull wasn’t giving him any help. “Go ahead.”

Valerie extended her hand with her palm facing up. “Stop worrying, let me see this coin and tell me the wager, then I’ll decide if I’m playing or not.”

Varric had a choice, either he play along or forfeit; the weight of the coin purse in front of him made him wince at the thought of losing it, but it was possible Val wouldn’t figure it out.  He placed the coin in her hands. “Heads I win, tails you lose.”

Inspecting the coin by raising it slightly above her eyes, Val turned it over in her fingers. “Looks innocent enough.” She let the coin rest in her palm judging the weight. “Feels real enough, too.”

For a moment Varric thought he’s escaped her scrutiny, but when he caught the quick glace back at Bull, he knew it was over.

“So there’s no reason to call it-is there? I’ll just toss this up and-”

“Take it,” Varric interrupted, shoving the pouch of coins toward the center. Several spilled out on and wobbled from the force of his defeat, but when he looked into her face, Varric saw a kind almost sympathetic look; a softness they’d witnessed now and again shared with him alone. She knew the cheat, but hadn’t levied an accusation; choosing instead to play along and called his bluff.

Dorian’s hands reached across, but Val proved faster, her hand rested atop the bag. “Split it,” she said, meeting Varric’s surprise with a wink while addressing the group. “Three ways, I insist.”  

No one argued; Valerie’s suggestion-quickly seconded by Bull-set Dorian to the task of splitting the coins into separate piles.

She patted Varric’s shoulder, leaning closer until she could whisper in his ear. “My brother used the same trick when we were young. Stick to card games, my friend.”


	23. Day 23 Final Fantasy XV - Gladiolus Amicitia x Ava Callidus “This is not new, it only feels like it.”

Day 23 “This is not new, it only feels like it.”

Fanfiction  
Gladiolus Amicitia x Ava Callidus (OC) post game

Even the gentle surf and warming sun couldn’t relax Ava. He’d found her. Gladio had actually left the city looking for her, even after the Glaive had failed in their duty, and Ava had turned her back on Gladio to help Cor. If she’d only listened and followed the King and the others, maybe things would have ended differently.  Gladio continued to talk, near oblivious to her discomfort.

It wasn’t his proximity or his sudden appearance that troubled her. The guilt she’d carried for months after leaving the city made it near impossible to meet his convictions. He wanted her to follow him, start again. The real issue was Ava knew she didn’t deserve any of it.

She exhaled, turning to face him, and the grin on Gladio’s face grabbed hold of his eyes, so filled with anticipation and relief, her heart sank as the words tumbled from her lips. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

His smile faltered. “So we won’t go back to the city. I’m good here and it’s not far if I’m needed.”

Before she could protest, his phone rang pulling Gladio’s attention away from Ava. “Yeah?”

She didn’t want to intrude, but leaving the room would prompt him to follow, so Ava focused her attention out the window. There were hunters fishing off nearly every point along the way; feeding those who had gathered at the quay was no small task, but the overabundance of fish provided more than enough for all.

“Marshal, Ava’s here with me.“ She heard only one side of the conversation. “She’s fine.”  Her eyes closed thinking on Cor. He’d guided her since she was young, fulfilling his promises to her father; it wasn’t right shutting him out, but she was certain Cor carried a great deal of disappointment in the Glaives failure.

A hand touching her elbow startled Ava.

“Hey, everything’s all right, it’s just me,” Gladio’s concern evident in his creased brow and gentle caresses on her arm were meant to soothe.  “Cor wants to talk with you, but I’ll be here if you need me.”

 _I’ll be here if you need me._   How many times had they promised the same thing to one another?

Holding the phone to her ear, Ava waited before speaking. “Yes, Sir?” It wasn’t right addressing him in any other way in her estimation. He deserved it.

“Ava, it’s good to hear your voice. I was. . .I was concerned.” He paused. “I’m in Galahd, but I’ll leave as soon as possible. Gladio will see you to the city, and we’ll talk more. Tell Gladio to meet me at the house, he’ll understand.”

Her refusal caught in her throat; Cor called her name asking if she could hear him, prompting her reply. “I’m not. . .I’m not sure if I should.”

She heard his sigh; feeling his disappointment in that simple sound.

“Ava, do you have any idea what happened when you disappeared? Is Gladio with you?”

Without looking behind her she confirmed it.

“Then you should know he’s looked tirelessly for you. Blamed himself for not paying attention. When Aranea finally shared your plans-weeks had passed. Weeks.  I’m not going to lie, even I thought the worst.”

“But-“

Cor continued. “So we’re clear. We don’t yet know what will come next, but you’re a part of this-at least I believe it to be so. If it were up to me-I’d make it an order, but those days have ended.   The choice is yours. I will hope to see you soon.” A soft indicated the call disconnected; Ava handed it back to Gladio.

“You all right?”

She nodded, her eyes locked to his.

“What did the Marshal say?”

For a moment, she couldn’t remember. He’d given her a message to relay. “Something about meeting at a house?”

He scratched his left cheek, an old habit of his whenever he was thinking. “Oh yeah, I guess it makes sense. Unless you think it’s too weird. Your mother’s house and most of the Crystal Gardens neighborhoods were untouched. Everything works, power, water, you name it.  Still needs a little work, but Cor knew where to find the keys.”

She laughed. The idea that the stupid fake rock near the door had survived along with her childhood home was surreal. Gladio took her laughter as agreement and stepped closer, but Ava held up her hand to stop him, not quite meeting his eyes. “Gladio, I,” she paused shaking her head, “I don’t know, all of this is so new. I’m not sure what happens next.”

He bent to catch her eyes, nearly contorting his large frame. “Hey, it’s me remember?”

She exhaled and nodded. “The tough guy, Captain of the Crownsguard, a survivor.” She left off any mention of their relationship or the past.

“Not the description I was hoping for, but the point is? This is not new, it only feels like it,” he said. “I get it, things have changed, everything now seems strange and empty; that emptiness isn’t going to end anytime soon, but I’ll make you a promise right now.”

“What’s that?”

“When it’s too much, when you feel lost? I’ll be there.”  He held out his hand, the palm lined and scarred-a reminder of what they’d faced, but it was the strength in his eyes that swayed her. As she reached out to take his hand, Gladio gathered her close and Ava’s doubt melted in his embrace.


	24. Day 24: Dragon Age Inquisition: Cullen Rutherford and Valerie Trevelyan. "You know this, you know this to be true."

Day 24 “You know this, you know this to be true.”

 

Fanfiction

Dragon Age fandom

Cullen x Valerie Trevelyan

 

Valerie Trevelyan wanted nothing more than to leave the Emerald Graves.  The forest grew dense in many areas; whatever the land had been was lost to the encroachment of foliage-a silent war to take back the woods waged by the living plants. Even the trees themselves weren’t spared from ivy and moss; massive trunks encircled by thick overgrowth marched upward to the canopy. One thing was clear, the forest was alive and wanted no part of the population wandering her paths and disturbing her toil.

“That’s it!” Valerie called out. “I don’t care where this fucking villa is, I’m sick of looking at trees and nothing but green.”

Laughter range out among her companions, Valerie’s attitude wasn’t new but taking bets on how long before she’d declare she was finished with the area had become a running thing.

Dorian’s voice carried toward the front of the group. “I believe this round is mine!”

“Hold on there Sparkler,” Varric said, continuing on, “you never chose a time frame.”

Blackwall answered. “He took the under. Nothing more.”

The conversation continued while Valerie’s disbelief did nothing to stop the three. “Wait, you wager on how long I’ll get tired of something?”

“Pretty much,” Varric answered, chuckling through his words. “You know us, we’ll set a wager on almost anything. So tell us something, oh great one, if you could be anywhere else right now-where would it be.”

The scoff from Blackwall surprised her. “Careful my lady, there’s a loaded question if ever I heard one.”

 Without hesitation, Dorian placed his bet.  “I’ve got five gold on a certain center tower along the ramparts of a certain stronghold.”

“Not much of a wager,” Blackwall added.

“Just stop, all of you.” Valerie tried to sound convincing but was sure they could see the slight tinge on her face and neck-for it was no lie, but Valerie preferred not to speak on Cullen outside of his office. She wanted to save private moments for herself. “Nothing but a bunch of gossiping old women.”

Varric halted and turned. His rich laughter filtering through his speech.  “Are you actually going to stand there and deny it? I’ve got ten gold that says you two have already picked out the country house.”

“That’s a horrid bet and not true.” Valerie’s denial and harsh glare did nothing to stop Varric’s assertions.

“All I’m saying is, you can deny it all you want, but everybody knows. “

She shrugged. “Sorry, but there is nothing between us.”

Dorian’s scoff carried with it such strong disagreement, he didn’t need to speak, but quick strides carried him to her side. “You cannot be serious. You know this; you know this to be true. It’s almost sickening how perfectly suited you are for one another. You so much even mention your name and suddenly Cullen is all glossy eyes and staring off into space.”

Valerie shook her head. “Sounds dreadful, are you sure it isn’t just the Commander feeling ill?”

“Cullen,” Dorian corrected.

“The Commander,” Valerie countered. “You know we are supposed to be the bloody Inquisition and not a group of prattling gossips.”

 Resting a hand on her shoulder, Dorian answered. “A word of advice. You might consider losing of few of Cullen’s preferred phrases from your vocabulary if you wish to be convincing in your denials.”


	25. Day 25 Dragon Age (pregame) Valerie Trevelyan. "Go forward, do not stray."

Day 25 “Go forward, do not stray.”

 

Fanfiction

Dragon Age fandom

Valerie Trevelyan (pregame)

Valerie cried, forcing the sobs back into her chest. They couldn’t hear her, not her uncle, not a single one of them. She wouldn’t do it. She couldn’t. There were things she had seen, the Maker had shown her the path and the choices she would make determined if people lived or died. She knew what would happen; they would force her to take lyrium and become one of them. _I won’t do it,_ she thought drying her face on her tunic. _I won’t. I can fix this, I can change what happens._

Valerie tried to catch her reflection in the window pane; she had to make them believe she didn’t care. _I’m not a child._ Her assertions were meant more to settle her nerves; at sixteen years, her superiors would not listen even if the Knight Commander was her blood.

The gentle knock on the door of the chamber and her uncle’s voice chafed against her anger.  “Give me one _bloody_ moment!”

She cringed as soon as the retort fell out, but his deep laughter revealed he hadn’t taken offense.  “I’ll be back soon,” he called through the door.

Faces and names swam in her head. Cassandra, mentor and friend. She would have to wreak havoc to be sent to Orlais and defy her family. The only way to become a Seeker.  Bastien, she would have to watch him die, even thought they had not met yet she had wept for his loss at her hand.

Valerie paced in the small chamber.  Somehow she had to remember everything she saw.  The lyrium wasn’t an option, if she touched even a little these memories would fade. How could the Chantry or the Order deny the will of the Maker by covering his path with the haze of strength and power over mages?

She chewed on her thumbnail.   _It was real. All of it. Everything I saw from the start of the Vigil until I died was real._ Her pacing stopped. “Cullen,” she whispered, feeling her heart race. “I’ll need to find him, but to do that I have to follow the path.”

The smile on her face grew thinking on him. _This is what love feels like_ , she thought.  Her joy faded and pacing resumed. “I can’t stray though. Ever forward and stick to the path. For Cullen, Cassie and Bren I have to go forward. Even in the face of losing-” Valerie gripped her arm, remembering the torment and unbearable pain.

She continued to assert conviction after conviction committing the images to memory, names, places, and events. When the hour had passed, her uncle returned carrying a lyrium kit.

 “Well Valerie, you have a decision to make. Will you follow the path the Maker has set before you? Take the lyrium and in doing so join the Order. You honor our family in your decision. What will you do?”

 Heart pounding she settled on her feet.  “I will not take the lyrium, Ser.”  Despite his growing frown, she repeated the words that would guide her from this day onward. _Go forward; do not stray from the Maker’s path._


	26. Day 26: Dragon Age Post Trespasser - Cullen x Valerie Trevelyan

Day 26  “But if you cannot see it, is it really there?”

 

Fan fiction

Dragon Age fandom

Cullen and Valerie Trevelyan (post trespasser)

___________

At first, Cullen dismissed the sound as a carryover from sleep until it happened again, his head turning toward it to see Valerie’s crooked smile.

“Sorry, I had a nightmare, and you said I could-”

Cullen shifted on the bed to face her. “Of course, are you. . .are you, all right?”

“Mm-hmm, it’s silly. I should have let you sleep.”

He knew her mind before she reacted; reaching for her at the moment she tried to pull away. “Stay with me,” he said with a gentle softness in his voice. “It’s far too early. Stay and talk.”

“I’m bothering you.”

“Never.” He pulled the bed sheet aside for her. “Please stay?”

Her brow creased, and lips pressed together. “How do you do that? Say little but make it near impossible to resist?”

Cullen shrugged. “A bit of a charm, I suppose, but given the choice would you rather leave the room for the cold kitchen or remain here with me?”

“Could we-just talk?” Valerie apologized. “I’m. . .my nightmare. I don’t think,” her voice trailed off, and he understood, whatever she had seen disturbed her. What Val needed more than anything was grounding.

He nodded giving her a light smile and waited as Val slid closer, fitting her body next to his. “Tell me about the Fade,” she said. “I was back there, like so many years ago but you weren’t there.”

“A dream, Val.” He held her with a gentleness, hoping to calm and still support. “The Fade is but the gateway to the Maker’s side and it is there, in the afterlife that we will continue-together.”

She sighed, resting her head against him. “How can you be sure? I know the Chantry’s teachings, but if you cannot see it, is it really there? What if?” Val stopped and exhaled, and light shudder passed through her.

His hand raised to cup her cheek, he quieted his voice. “I have no desire to leave this life until we have lived it to its very end, but even then, I have no doubts that we will continue in the life after this.” He took a deep breath. “How can I be sure? I feel it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There is little certainty in much of our day to day. I cannot predict the outcome of the harvest across the family holdings, I have little knowledge of when the roof above us may weaken and fail, but there is nothing that will ever stand between us, not even death. Of this I am certain.”


	27. Day 27: Horizon Zero Dawn - "Remember, you have to remember."

Day 27  “Remember, you have to remember.”

 

Fan fiction

Horizon Zero Dawn

 

The sun would set soon enough, but Aloy feared she’d not live long enough to take advantage of the cover. Her breath fell ragged and pained, this machine-this Rockbreaker. She couldn’t find a safe distance to study it. Any cover was quickly destroyed as it burrowed underground and the burst through the earth and rock destroying everything in its path.

She’d retreated from the gorge to recover and replenish her arsenal. She’d wasted far too many bombs and traps only to realize too late she entered the fight unprepared. Exhaling sharply, Aloy had to clear her head and remember how to craft as many ice bombs and traps as she could.

Crouched at the campfire, her hands shook searching her pack. “All right, that’s enough. Sit and breathe before you end up blowing yourself up.”

She’d be safe at the campfire. At least, she’d assumed so. “I’d. . .better check-just in case.” A light tap on the metal object on her ear whined and activated a domed webbed matrix. Slow movements scanned the surrounding area, the focus displaying small windows of data, ground composition, mineral deposits, plant life and other facts, some of which Aloy did not understand.

What she searched for were illuminated figures, solid masses of violet light would show any machines or living creatures in the area. A few small animals skittered through brush and along the rock ledges, but nothing of greater size and threat. She exhaled. “That’s a relief.”

Taking her time, Aloy reviewed everything she had. “The freeze arrows did nothing, but I have enough chillwater to make sling bombs.” It took less time to craft as many as she could carry, but Aloy feared she’d need more. Arrows were easy to craft on the run, Rost had taught her to craft them in her sleep, but bombs were another thing, she needed more than just a few seconds.

She smiled to herself as a memory surfaced.  

_Rost had woken her before sunrise, his plan to take her out further required careful planning, but Aloy had fallen asleep without completing the tasks set for her. She’d not filled her quiver, nor had she packed the supplies. Rost’s frown spoke for him._

_“Aloy remember, you have to remember the tasks I set every Brave must do. If you cannot follow, then your training ends now.”_

_“But there are so many lessons and rules!”_

_“Yes, there are rules Aloy, but this is about survival. When it comes to the machines, it is better to prepare than be caught unaware. Supply caches and crates are filled for these reasons, but if you’re in the wilds, use what you have, don’t rely on what you might find.”_

Rost had been right, Aloy had forgotten the lesson. “If faced with a difficult hunt, make sure you have supplies and extra hidden away. There was only so much her sling pouch could carry, but she could craft more and store them in a crate nearby, even if the Rockbreaker disturbed the stash the bombs would go off and do the work for her. “Not the cleanest of hunts, but at least I can walk away from it.”  Aloy finished filling her bag and rearranged her supplies, making sure the bomb parts were easily reached.  “There were plenty of crates near the entrance.” She stood and with a sharp exhale steeled herself. “I can do this.”


	28. Day 28: Dragon Age: Inquisition, No Pairing "I felt it. You know what I mean."

Day 28 “I felt it. You know what I mean.”

 

(I altered the prompt with a break between the sentences)  
Dragon Age Inquisition  
No pairing

 

 

Some ideas, no matter how good they sound in the planning, turned into a never-ending slew of complaints leading from one bad decision to another. Valerie didn’t need to stop and ask questions to know her companions weren’t happy. Dorian and Varric had finally stopped complaining about the Deep roads once they’d made camp.

She shook her head, her hands gripping the back of her neck. “I should have listened to you,” she murmured, thinking on Cullen’s warning. He’d been concerned about the mission as soon as she’d thought to accept it.

Dorian pressed his lips together, a sign he’d heard her. “What was that?” The feigned joviality would quickly descend into sarcastic barbs and disagreements if she engaged him. “Did someone just admit this whole bloody expedition a waste of time?” He stood, slapping his hands together. “Then may we go now? Please?”

“Sit, Sparkler. We’re waiting for our guides.” Varric’s tone made it clear he wasn’t happy either, but wasn’t up for another argument.

“Our guides?” Dorian crossed his arms and settled on his feet. “You make it sound as though we are on a weekend excursion,” he said, eyes narrowed slightly. “You realize where we are?”

Bull joined in, asking both to keep quiet, but Valerie said nothing, her eyes fixed on the fire. All of this was so tiring, she could go alone; sending the others back to the surface wasn’t a horrible idea and at least they’d stop arguing.

“Are you even listening?” Dorian’s voice broke through her private reflection.

“You three can go. I’ll stay and wait.”

The protests started as soon as she finished speaking, but Valerie repeated her request. “Go. I need to do this, you don’t.”

Bull voice drowned out the others. “Not alone. I’m staying.”

Apologies and explanations of fatigue and concern flowed from the other two. “Hey, not that I’m saying no, but you get the deep roads aren’t easy right? Trust me, I’ve been in plenty of messes thanks to the shit that lurks underground.” Varric wasn’t kidding, Val understood parts of his story-if he was telling the truth-then this whole trip was going to be worse than any could imagine.

Dorian closed the distance and spoke in a quieted voice. “Help me to understand why we are here, what moved you so much to answer this request?”

She glanced at him and then stared and the fire again. “Because I’m supposed to be here.” Meeting his concern, she shrugged. “I mean, I felt it,” despite his disbelief and a single raised brow, she continued.  “You know what I mean.”

“Not really, no.”


	29. Day 29: Assassin's Creed Freeform from "In His Shadow" (upcoming) “At least it can’t get any worse.”

“At least it can’t get any worse.”

Fan Fiction

Assassin’s Creed (freeform) From an upcoming fic "In His Shadow"

Original Character Melody Ford

Language

 

Mel paced in the near darkness of the cellar. Angry stomps stirred the dust and dirt from the stone floor, making her eyes itch and throat scratch with each breath. _Maybe if I’m lucky I’ll asphyxiate here._

Far across the cellar hushed voices carried on, but Mel no longer cared. It took a minute for the whispers to end and the sound of men’s heeled shoes to walk toward her. “I don’t care Gianni.” She guessed her brother approached first. He acted as an intermediary whenever Enzo was involved. “There’s no chance I’m going in-period. Rocca Abbaziale is not abandoned. People hold weddings there for fuck’s sake!”

The abbey sat rested on a high hill in the town of Subiaco. Mel didn’t believe the Borgia’s had hidden anything inside. Even if the memory she saw in the animus proved true, whatever it was had no doubt been discovered and removed. It made little sense, Cesare and Lucretzia Borgia were supposedly born within the abbey’s walls, but all of it took place long before Rodrigo started his search for the Pieces of Eden.

Gianni raised his hands in an attempt to placate his sister. “Melodia, there is no other way to survey the abbey. It is closed to the public on all but weekends and events. You and Enzo will attend the wedding and-”

Fists clenched she huffed once, nostrils flaring. “Absolutely, positively no fucking way.”  Enzo sauntered closer, the sly grin on his face a sign of his amusement. His smugness only strengthened her resolve. “No one in their right mind would ever believe we were a couple. End of discussion.”

Enzo shrugged before leaning against a support column. “I told you this wasn’t going to work.”

“Enzo, you’re not helping. Go see to Max.” Gianni gesture toward the cellar exit.

“He’s fine. This is more important. If Melodia is incapable of handling the assignment like an adult-”

“Shut up,” she spat, pushing her brother aside. Quick, angry steps carried her across the cellar and up the stairs earning a long deep sigh from Gianni.

“I’ll talk with her. We need those pictures.” Shaking his head, Gianni pressed Enzo. “I need you to fix whatever happened between you. Melodia can find the fresco-if she has the opportunity to investigate the abbey. This is already critical and without her we have nothing.”

Another shrug from Enzo proved he remained unfazed. “At least it can’t get any worse, and you have to admit it’s actually getting better.”

 

“How so?”

 

 “We’ve moved from _fuck off_ to _shut up_. That-my friend-is progress.”


	30. Day 30: Dragon Age: Inquisition “Do we really have to do this again?”

“Do we really have to do this again?”

Fan Fiction

Dragon Age: Inquisition

 

“Hey Tiny, maybe you should rethink this," Varric waved his hand in front of his face.

"Nasty tic you've got there."

"Come on, you know what I mean."

Bull shrugged. "Nope. Not following."

Varric stepped closer. "Think about it. You're going to throw an axe."

"Yeah, so?"

"With Valerie standing there." Varric said eyes widening.

"There a point in this soon, because there's about twenty gold on the line.” Bull jerked his thumb toward his shoulder. Seeing the concern on Varric’s face, Bull shook his head.  “Do we really have to do this again? I’ve got this.”

Valerie’s laughter and shout from around the corner interrupted them. “Hey! Are we doing this or what?”

Deliberate steps crunched twigs and kicked stones aside revealing Cullen’s displeased presence. Even in the moonlight it was obvious his face was red with anger. “Utterly childish and ridiculous, the lot of you.” Raising his hand, Cullen pointed at Bull and Varric. “If but a single hair is injured-”

“Relax Cullen. I do this all the time. Nothing will happen.”

A loud scoff trailed off into a string of mumbled words as Cullen stomped up the stairs to his office. The slamming door quieted the courtyard drawing another member of their group outside.

Dorian leaned against the doorframe. “I take it the Commander wasn’t as enthusiastic about our little endeavor?”

“You could say that.” Bull rolled his shoulders, checked his surroundings and leaned closer to Dorian. “So, just in case?”

“Yes, Bull. Should anything go awry I will fix it, but a favor if I may?” Nor bothering to wait for a reply, Dorian continued. “Remember that your goal is to _miss_ not _hit_ the target.” 

Varric pushed between them. “You two don’t get it; she’s not going to flinch.” He rubbed his temples. “I’m starting to think Cullen was right and let me tell you, that hurts.” 

 

 

 


	31. Day 31 Dragon Age Inquisition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The following is the final entry for Fictober18. It is based on the codex entries in Dragon Age Inquisition that can be found in the Chateau D'Onterre. 
> 
> In the Emerald Graves sits a abandoned Chateau. Nothing lives within its walls, but something still walks and waits.

“I’ve waited so long for this.”

Fan Fiction

Dragon Age: Inquisition

No pairing

 

 

The forest has all but swallowed my home in lush vines and rich shadows. I have never known another place, another life. Perfection in all things. My home would not allow for simplicity and serenity. Perhaps that brought her.  I realized the simplest of truths-far too late. Denying who we are, wearing a mask and allowing fear to decide a course of action condemned us all.

_She was so lovely when we met. Elaine. I don’t remember when she arrived. I had no visitors, and father had forbidden any playtime outside the safety of the chateau. I was younger then, far younger and the promise of play and games was too powerful to resist._

_I don’t recall who she worked for, but I I’d seen her with the maids, the gardeners and even with the kitchen staff. She smiled whenever she caught me staring. The morning I learned her name she was pushing a wheelbarrow in the garden._

_Being shy, I would stand near the double doors; I left them open of course for a quick escape. It was Elaine who waved at me first and I thought it odd. Those who worked for my father never said or did more than what was expected. None ever used my name, and none ever spoke more than a few words or repeated my father’s requests to me._

_When a child is forced to live in such silence, the first voice to offer friendship sounds the sweetest._

_When she approached, I realized we were close in age, and despite stopping her work, the gardener said nothing. “I’ve waited so long for this.”_

_Strange words of greeting from one child to another, but I thought finally someone had taken notice of me._

_“Waited for what,” I asked, still shifted back in slow movements toward the open doors._

_“To meet you, of course,” she laughed as though my question made little sense. She stopped and quieted, looking around the garden and the hall behind me. “I can help you.”_

_My face froze at the thought she might know of my affliction. I did nothing wrong, and yet as my father said to me night after night. “You must ask the Maker for forgiveness, child. You are afflicted, and it is by his hand you may be saved.”_

_“Help. . .help me?”_

_The girl nodded. “Yes, I can help you learn to use your gift-if you’ll let me. My name is Elaine.” She held out her hand, smudged and grey with dirt from the morning toil. “Trust in me and I’ll be your friend. I know games and tricks and we can play whenever you want.”_

_I shook my head. Father had forbidden me to play outside, in fact I was sure if caught I’d be locked in my room again._

_“You’re not afraid of me?” For the first time in months I felt happy, lighter and so blessed to have a friend. I hesitated for a moment before taking her offered hand. “I am Colette D’Onterre.”_

_Letting my hand go, a shadow moved across Elaine’s face. “Oh, I know Colette. You and I will be very close.”_

l-l-l

I should have known. I should have said no, fought back or even told someone of the strange girl. When we met all those years ago, I didn’t know what would happen. I couldn’t know what Elaine really was-and before I died? I didn’t care.

Chateau D’Onterre is _my_ home. Elaine still roams. Intruders have entered the gates and will soon be hers. _Inquisitor_ , I hear the others say. Who is he? Will he want to play? No matter. Elaine will see to him.


End file.
